


Midnight Snack

by vocalizedRainbow (VocalRaynbow)



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Dreams, Gen, Grotesque Imagery, pork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-08
Updated: 2011-12-08
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:03:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VocalRaynbow/pseuds/vocalizedRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John is a god. He is strong and powerful and skilled. So, why does he feel so raw?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Snack

**Author's Note:**

> Another short little drabble. Thought this up while reading TVTropes. Uh, I hope it's okay. Not intended to be shippy, but I guess you could interpret it that way if that's what you like. /shrug

He wears that syrupy sweet smile. He wears it everywhere he goes, for everything he does. His teeth poke out of his mouth ( _able to rip, tear_ ) as he grins, and his blue eyes glitter ( _and burn, burn like acid_ ). His father would be so proud of him, she says. He's looking back at her, seeing her round, dimpled features and concerned eyes, but the colors burn. They burn and they hurt.

The cold is so intense in her world. He feels his skin freeze, ice over. Fingers numbing and purpling. It's so cold it feels warm, hot. Hot like the surface of a frosted sun. He bubbles under the ice, head throbbing and pulsing. His eyes dart around behind square glasses. It all  _ hurts _ . The cold and the bubbling acid underneath. His hands are not only bruised, but blistered.

“I think everything's going to be okay!” he hears his “sister” say. Her voice is light, high pitched. It pierces his ears like a siren. “I just have this feeling. Everything's going to be great, John. So, don't worry too much.” He can feel her eyes on him. He knows she can't quite see through. His smile twitches a bit, but she doesn't notice. Only sees the surface, like always.

The friendleader parts his lips to laugh. It comes out, dark and gurgling and horrible. He thought Rose was the grimdark one? But Jade is oblivious. “If you say so!” He knows the words have flowed out his chapped lips, dripping and coated in molasses. He knows this, but they feel rather like a limb that, though it may be controlled, feels as if it is someone else's. His voice lingers, but it isn't “his”. It couldn't possibly be his.

The white of the snow partially blinds him. It glows, bright and glaring, in his already weakened eyes. It makes his ears ring, a loud buzzing that he cannot make go away, and his head shudder and crack.

Like the frost on top of a pond in January. The ice is so very thin.

Jade laughs. It is only a moment later, but to him, every feeble second feels like hours. Hours spent in that old, worn out mask ( _ yet so fresh, so new _ ), running around in a fantasyland in his pajamas. This world is isolated, like a cage. Where the only responsibilities revolve around game tasks. And where anything  _ extra _ is pruned away. Like his father. Like Jade's dog.

Like his inner self.

He can hear it screaming, ripping at his inner flesh. Tearing and peeling like he's some sort of slab of pork. He sizzles too, like bacon in a pan. He's destroying himself from the inside out, for those extra bits need to be pruned. Perfected.

  


John Egbert wakes up in a cold sweat, gripping the sheets on his bed. Beside him on the wall are his movie posters, and his computer hums idly just a few feet away. He can't understand what's wrong, why he's so agitated. Why he feels like someone who slept late and missed some important opportunity. Freezing and panicked, John climbs out of bed and flicks on his computer monitor. There, Jade is pestering him.

A part of him wants to grin. But this time, it's sincere.


End file.
